She who must be obeyed rules over her subjects with just the
proper hint of divine right befitting such a situation. She sprinkles her
royal fairy dust generously over her courtiers and ladies, and they in turn
pledge their undying fealty.
It’s a shame we don’t use words like fealty anymore incidentally, probably because we no longer engage
in tales like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and their ilk (ilk, another long lost word!), but be that as it may, I know where my allegiance stands! To her majesty, of
course.
Apparently, this feeling of abject loyalty is ubiquitous
throughout the court as well. Quite simply put, she’s won over the kingdom and the people have laid down their arms (or put them up as it were) for Nootchie the
Queen!!! And her beneficence is ample
repayment to her subjects. As she’s carried out of her quarters each day to
greet the admirers, she extends her arm graciously and blesses the multitude
with that beaming, toothless grin that captures all hearts.
Oh, but what’s that I hear. . . . the Divine One cries out? I must go at once, as her every wish is our command. I
believe what she desires at the moment just may be the coveted sauce of apples.
Or perhaps she craves the elixir of life, a drop or two of water in her
uniquely designed chalice, the one called “sippy.”
She may even need a hug or two to alleviate the uncertainty
of her careworn young brow. Indeed, uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. We
oft find that baby talk works wonders too.
The world of sovereignty works in mysterious ways! What
should we make of all these fortuitous, rather occult coincidences from the majestic macrocosm of the heavens that rain down their good fortune upon our blessed
heads? This is the ninth chapter in the saga of her first year of rule, and The
Royal Nootch as it happens has just turned nine as well! Nine months, that is. . . .
But what of it? Can true divinity be measured in human years? I
think not!
